


Trust In Me

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Series: Beginning Again [4]
Category: Mirrormask (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-17
Updated: 2007-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-07 00:44:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The White Queen's key opens a very special door, and Valentine is about to use it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust In Me

_Trust in me, just in me  
Shut your eyes and trust in me  
You can sleep safe and sound  
Knowing I am around  
Slip into silent slumber  
Sail on a silver mist  
Slowly and surely your senses  
Will cease to resist_  
Siouxie and the Banshees, "Trust In Me"

The White Queen's key opens a very special door, and Valentine is about to use it.

He is quite possibly a very silly man; somewhere out there Helena waits. He knows this even as he knows that the Princess remains locked away in her room with no chance of escape. It is easy to say that she should move slowly to gain her freedom, but it's quite another thing to actually do it. He knows this, but it is all that he can do to bring her hopes up.

Valentine might be an important man, but he is also a silly man. There is really no other explanation as to why he is creeping through the Borderlands heading to the Dark Queen's castle, key in hand.

The Dark Queen is busy with affairs of state. Having invited him into the castle once, it didn't bar his entry on his second visit. This is a good thing, possibly. Maybe. Valentine isn't sure anymore if this is a good idea, but he can't help himself.

_Trust me,_ he whispers to the walls. _I wish you no harm. I'll care for the Princess as my own, and I'll keep her safe._

The walls believe, and let him pass.

He puts the key to the lock, and the door opens. Inside, the Princess is waiting.

***

"James?" Helena whispered, leaning against him.

They were sitting on the steps to the trailer he shared with Pingo, each with an ice cream cone in hand. James rather thought Pingo was a good roommate, since he never made excessive amounts of noise. The flat he shared with his college roommates had always been full of loud music, cigarette smoke, marijuana and poker cards. He hadn't appreciated it at the time, just like he hadn't appreciated the accounting classes his Gran had insisted that he take. He hadn't wanted to be an accountant. He had wanted to be an Author; there was something impeccably grand about being an Author. But writing didn't pay the bills, and his first short stories were all rubbish. So he had taken the accounting classes alongside the English literature courses. Now he was grateful; he had been helping Helena's parents with the books, which made him doubly useful to the circus. In his heart of hearts, he hoped it would be enough for them to keep him. He didn't want to go back to his real life outside the circus. There was something enchanting about the different layers of reality.

"Helena?" he replied, turning to face her.

"I've been thinking about a new act. Just us."

"Really? Does your Mum and Da know about this?"

"I wanted to ask you first. If we did some extra practice... I was thinking of the dream journey, of turning that into an act."

"Oh? How would you do it?" James asked, curious. He really wanted to ask her why; she hadn't spoken of the dreams since that day she had explained them all to him. He had thought that perhaps they still carried some kind of hold on her, but this was the first sign he'd seen of it. "I don't think all the creatures translate well."

"Well, no. But a journey to save a Princess? That we could use."

James thought of his own dreams lately, and wondered why he hadn't told Helena. But sometimes even the best of lovers kept secrets, and this was apparently one of them. It bothered him, though he couldn't say why.

"Have you still been dreaming of the city?" he asked, without realizing it.

She flushed and looked away. "It's not the same anymore."

"What's wrong with it?"

"There's nothing for me to do anymore but wander about. I'm a lost thing there. I haven't figured out my place." Her voice was whisper soft.

Almost ashamed, James took up her free hand. "Take me with you, next time," he offered, winding his fingers through hers. "We'll figure it out together. Trust me."

She turned to him, flashing him a brilliant smile. "I will. I do."

James wondered why he still didn't mention his own dreams, but kept silent. He hadn't figured out what his own dreams meant yet.

***

The Princess had been crying, the dark mascara and kohl lining running down her face in rivulets. The tracks remain, and she is staring defiantly at the door. Her shoulders slump somewhat as she sees it is Valentine in the doorway. "I didn't think you were coming back for me," she whispers.

"Why were you crying?" Valentine asks gently, locking the door behind him. He tucks the key back into the pocket of his robe.

"She... She said awful things. It was such a row..." She tries to smile at him, but her red mouth falls instead. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't be nice."

Valentine sits beside her on her bed, taking up her cold hands in his. He blows on them, and rubs them gently. For a while, he says nothing.

"You don't care?"

"How do you think I got into the castle, Princess?" Valentine asks instead. Her brow furrows at him prettily, and Valentine wonders if he is even breathing.

"I don't care. It doesn't matter."

"Your mother doesn't know I'm here."

Her eyes widen. "You snuck in here? Why?"

Valentine adjusts his position on the bed, kneeling in front of her. Her eyes widen a fraction more, and he can almost see his own reflection in her eyes. They're a dark mirror, bending him upside down and sideways. He can drown in those eyes, and he wonders if he has already. "You, of course. I had to see you again, Princess. I couldn't just leave."

She touches his mask, her fingers trembling. "You couldn't?"

"No." Valentine reaches out with one hand and strokes her bare face. The Princess trembles slightly, and leans into his touch. He wonders now why he had ever thought maskless faces were expressionless. It's there, if only people had eyes to see. "Your name should be Helen."

"What?"

"Helen was the most beautiful woman in the world. A war was fought on her behalf." Valentine cocks his head to the side, his mouth twisting into a grin. "Isn't that what had happened to you? A beautiful princess that sparked a war."

"It wasn't a war," she replies, almost miffed. "Don't poke fun."

"What battles you fought against the Dark Queen," Valentine whispers, undaunted. He leans forward, creeping into the Princess's space. She leans back, almost under him, and winds up pressed against her own pillows. "The battles you continue to fight. The war continues, Helen, and it's only a matter of time before you win."

"It's not a war," she whispers, almost ashamed. "It shouldn't be. She's my mother."

Valentine hovers above her now, his robe falling around them like a tent. Her dress is hiked up around her, and her stockings have rips in them. It looks as if she had been fighting herself, throwing things about the room and striking herself. "Helen, I know. But it doesn't make it any less a war, does it?"

"I'm not at war," the Princess whispers, black eyes impossibly wide. "Why are you looking at me like that? What's wrong with me?"

Valentine balances on one arm and uses the other to trace her cheek. "Nothing, Helen." His hand moves down the side of her jaw and to her covered throat. He pulls off her choker, noting that she doesn't protest. His hand hovers just above her heart, not quite touching her through the dress. "What do you want?"

"I don't know."

"Liar," Valentine says, a grin creeping across his face. His mask eyes don't crinkle with laughter.

"I'm not," the Princess claims, and her voice is almost like a wail. "I'm not," she whispers to his unflinching gaze. "I don't know what I want. It wasn't like this before."

"Not with any of those boys you snogged in the Other World?"

"Is that what this is about?" she rages, propping herself up on her elbows. Valentine's hand winds up cupping her breast, and the Princess' breath catches. "It's not like that."

"Helen, what do you want?"

"I'm not a beautiful princess," she whispers brokenly, looking up at him. The plaintive look on her face is heartbreaking. "I'm not, so stop calling me that."

"You are to me," Valentine replies, his thumb tracing circles over her clothed nipple. It peaks beneath his thumb, and he smiles tentatively at her. "Say you'll be my Helen."

"Helen," she says haughtily "is such a simple name."

"Beauty in simplicity," Valentine agrees. Their faces are close, and he kisses her nose. He thumbs her harder, and smiles as she gasps. "Simple things are wonderful to behold."

"If I'm Helen..." she gasps, grasping his bracing forearm. "Valentine, what are you doing to me?"

He kisses her as a reply, soft and deep. He continues to caress her breast, and her mouth falls open beneath his. Valentine's tongue slides into her mouth, and he strokes her tongue. As he breaks the kiss for air, he can hear Helen gasping. He dips his head down, and his lips roam her face, tracing the edges of her brows, her cheeks, her nose and her lips. His tongue runs down the outer rim of her ear and sends shivers down her spine. His tongue makes a trail down the column of her neck. Helen feels fire shooting down her spine, and she arches into Valentine's touch. She feels him grow hard against her, hot and heavy, full of need. It doesn't surprise her anymore, and it doesn't frighten her.

Her breast is cupped in his palm. He likes the heft of it, the nipple pebbling beneath her dress as her own desire mounts. It's wrong, it's so wrong; he shouldn't be doing it, but he can't help himself. Her black silk panties rip easily, and Valentine slides his fingers into her dark curls. She gasps so prettily, arching up against his hand. "Valentine," she whispers, grabbing at his arms in a near panic.

"Easy, love," Valentine says gently. He undoes his pants while she's not looking and feels the fabric puddle around his feet. Oh, he's going to go to hell for this, he's sure.

"Valentine," she whimpers, shifting within the circle of his arms. "Please... yes, please..." He feels her press against his hand more insistently, and her touch becomes harder as her own desperation begins to climb. She's not quite sure what she's asking for, but Valentine knows.

Valentine is fairly certain she has never begged for anything in her life, just as he is certain she's begging now.

"Helen, I want..." Valentine bites back his groan as he positions himself. "I need you now." He leans back a bit and lifts her spread legs, the tip of his erect cock at her entrance. "I don't know if it'll be all right for you," he moans. Helen's eyes lock to his and then he's pushing himself deeply inside of her.

Her back arches into a bow as she strangles a cry of pain. Oh dear.

Valentine stills, his ragged breath harsh in the silence. "Helen?"

"Ow," she whimpers. "The books don't say this."

"I'm sorry," he whispers, and strokes her face gently. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"It was so good before."

Valentine leans down and kisses her, his fingers touching everything he can reach. He strokes her face, her neck, her breasts. Her whimpers calm, and she holds him close. "Is this what it is?" she asks, almost disappointed.

"No. I... I'm trying real hard to wait, so you can feel what I do."

She wriggles beneath him as she tries to find a more comfortable position. Valentine sucks in a pained breath, and he buries his face in the hollow of her neck. "What is it?"

"Ah, Helen... You feel so good... I can't... I can't wait..."

She closes her eyes and tucks her head next to his. "Then don't."

He moves, slowly at first. He strokes her, he murmurs little nothings meant to soothe. And Helen can almost feel the burn begin to build again, almost. Valentine is panting, head thrown back. He's trying to go slow, he's trying to give her pleasure. That warms her heart more than she had thought it would. _He cares,_ she thinks, amazed. _He really cares._

And then he shudders and collapses.

"Valentine?"

It takes an eternal moment, and then he picks his head up. "Oh, bugger."

"What?"

"I've gone and mucked this up, now. I didn't do this right."

Helen blinks, and watches as Valentine pulls away. He strips himself naked, then helps her take off her dress. All the while, Helen is confused. What hadn't he got right?

"Here we are," he declares, settling into the bed beside her. "You should be worshiped like a Princess, not taken with your dress hiked up about your waist." He smiles, a rakish kind of grin, and Helen finds herself smiling shyly back at him. "I think I've got to do this all again, so it's done right. You deserve something proper."

"Will it hurt this time?"

"Hopefully not," he says cheerfully. "But we won't know it 'till we try, yes?"

Helen laughs, arms around Valentine, and they roll over on the bed. She can hear banging on the door, and knows it's her mother. Who else would dare?

"Go away!" Helen yells, a grin on her face. "I'm busy growing up!"

Valentine laughs with her, then kisses her. And it's that slow burn down to her toes again, and Helen opens her mouth to his. He kisses her, he suckles her, and his mouth is everywhere, paying homage to his Princess. This time she comes, and it's a fierce thing.

Oh. So this is what it's about.

Valentine wraps her hand around something. "Here. This is for you."

Helen opens her hand and sees a shining silver key lying on her palm. "What's this?"

"It's the key to your room."

"Where did you get it? My mother couldn't have given it to you."

"The Queen of Light. She said it was very important." Helen is startled by that, but Valentine continues. "It's yours, Helen. I won't lock you in. But I hope maybe you'll unlock the door for me when I visit?"

"Can't I come with you?" Helen asks. She hates herself for sounding so desperate, but she can't help herself, all the same.

"Helen, the Dark Queen will kill us. Slow steps, remember? Think of this as the first." He kisses her then, long and deep, and the heat unfurls in her belly. "I'll be back. Will you let me in if I come knocking on the door?"

"Always," she whispers, and then she pulls him down to the bed again.

But Valentine wakes.

***

After practice, James followed Helena to her trailer. They had been discussing The Tempest while they practiced, which amused her father to no end. James secretly thought that there was no need for Helena to consider college, but he knew it was something she wanted to do to prove to herself she was all grown up. Part of him wondered what the hurry was, and the other knew exactly what it was.

"Did you dream of the city?" James asked, settling in on Helena's bed. He had his Riverside Shakespeare text open, and it was littered with numerous multicolored underlines, highlights and post-its sticking out of the book.

"I was in the borderlands," Helena murmured, not looking up. "I got lost. I can't seem to find my way about any longer."

"You should visit the Princess," James said, turning the page to the book.

"What would I want to see her for?"

"Her name is Helen," James replied, sidestepping her question slightly. "Don't you think you'd be lonely if you were locked up in your room?"

"Helen?" Helena pulled a face. "It's too much like my own."

"I think it's a good name for her. Helen of Troy started a war after a misunderstanding. Didn't she do the same?"

"I suppose." Helena turned on her side and shut the textbook. "You think she's lonely."

"I think that's why she did what she did. I think she was looking for a way out, for someone to love her the way she needed. She's selfish, don't misunderstand me. But I don't think she started out as evil as everyone painted her to be."

Helena appeared to be thinking, and she looked almost troubled. "I was almost trapped there."

"It was a dream, Helena."

"It felt real," she said softly, looking up at him. "It did."

James reached out and stroked her face. "I think you need to talk to her. She needs to grow up and be let out of her room."

"Me, too, then," Helena said softly, almost mournfully. "And I don't even know if I'm ready."

He pulled her into a tight embrace. "Ah, Helena. It's not a scary thing, really. One day you look around and you're grown already. And you don't know where the time went."

"I know I'm brave mostly," she whispered against the skin of his neck, "but sometimes I don't know what to think. I don't know if I'll be all right. What if something goes wrong?" She pressed her lips to his neck. "I don't want to lose this."

James kissed her temple. "You won't, love. I won't let that happen. I'll wait 'till it's right for you. I'm not going anywhere for a long time."

"Oh, but you probably think I'm being a silly girl. The ones you've fancied probably were better."

He smiled at the mulish tone she was taking. "There were three."

Helena pulled back and looked at him in surprise. "Three?"

"I was the silly one. They were all wrong for me. I shouldn't have shagged them. It didn't mean anything." James shrugged. "Sounds awful, doesn't it?"

"Was it? Awful, I mean."

"They didn't care for me," he said, shrugging again. "We were all away from home, in college, drinking and smoking and what have you... That time was all full of mistakes. They were just one more in a line of them."

"Oh." Helena's brow furrowed. "So you'll wait for me."

"Ah, Helena," James murmured, trailing his fingers down her neck. She shivered deliciously, and turned to kiss his palm. "I'll wait." He put her hand between his legs so she could feel his erection. "But not so long, okay? I'm not that good a man."

She laughed and rolled onto her back. She pulled him on top of her with a sigh. "I don't want to lose this, though. Won't things change if we have sex? Won't it be different?"

"I don't think so," James replied. He kissed her soundly. "You're a sensible girl, and I'm not so bad, really. We can make it work if we want it to."

Helena grinned as he touched his forehead to hers. "And you want it to."

"As much as you do, love."

"Maybe soon?" she asked.

James grinned, and feathered kisses all over her face and neck. "We'll make it work. Trust in me, Helena."

Her smile was gorgeous. "I do."

The End.


End file.
